


The Summer before 18

by anallisonoriginal



Category: GOT7
Genre: F/M, I miss summer already, It's a good thing, O.C. character, Summer Romance, Surfer!BamBam, the rest of the MX and Got7 boys make an appearance, trust me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-01-06 13:59:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12212685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anallisonoriginal/pseuds/anallisonoriginal
Summary: I had always played it safe, until one summer, and one boy with bright red hair changed my mind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fun piece, because Surfer!BamBam is a thing in my head, and I already miss summer.

            “I see you’re working hard,” my mom joked, leaning against the doorjamb as she looked down at me from my place on the floor.

            “Packing is exhausting,” I groaned, my arm over my face.

            “You know, you don’t have to do this… you could just live here with me… like you planned.”

            “I know… this is something I have to do,” I said, smiling up at her.

            “Okay,” she sighed. “Well, I’m ordering pizza, I’ll call you when it gets here.”

            “Sounds good,” I said, pushing myself up with a groan and glaring at the totes that littered my room.

            They had been the bane of my existence the past week; trying to decide what to bring that would fit into a room that was roughly the size of my closet was harder than I thought it would be, so I’d been ignoring them until now, the night before I had to move into the dorms. I had managed to par it down to the essentials when it came to my books, but my willpower had faded when faced with my closet. The promise of pizza had revived me however, and I grabbed a hair-tie, pulling my hair back into a ponytail and opening up my music app before pulling open my closet door.

            Dragging a tote over, I sighed before pulling clothes off of hangers at random, throwing in a mishmash of sweaters and flannel shirts before opening up a drawer and pulling out my favorite shirts, adding them to the pile. A quick dumping of my underwear drawer and my pile of jeans and I called it good, but then I caught sight of my converse and I groaned. “Shoes, I need fucking shoes,” I muttered, flopping myself onto the ground.

            Grabbing my Chucks and the boots my mom and I had gotten last week, I threw them into the bin as well, then my fingers brushed against a strappy sandal. The weather was getting cooler, but I figured they were thin, so why not, and began to rummage around for the mate.

            In my search, my fingers brushed against a canvas bag, and when I pulled it out, I swore I could smell seaweed, and heard waves crashing on the shore. Opening it up, I felt a fond smile cross my lips as I saw what I had left inside. I pulled out a hemp necklace, a sharks tooth dangling from the center, and I rubbed my fingers across the smooth twine before setting it down beside me to pull out a water logged book. _That damn dog,_ I thought, shaking my head before noticing the cardboard coffee sleeve sticking out from between the pages, the last few digits of a number that sometimes still popped up on my phone scrawled across it. Memories began to fill my mind, images of star-filled nights, surfboards, and fire-engine red hair—memories of a life-changing summer.


	2. Chapter 2

            I picked up the book and opened it, wincing at the blurred text and wavy pages from the sea salt.  My mom had teased me about bringing a book from the reading list of one of my lit classes. I had simply retorted that she was one to talk as she had brought several of the books she planned to teach about.

            We had once been referred to as Lorelai and Rory. That wasn’t exactly true—we were both more Rory than Lorelai, but the depth of our friendship was the same. It had always been her and I against the world, and I proudly called her my best friend.

            We always took one last hoo-rah trip to this little town on the coast before school started, and this year had been no different. We had eagerly counted down the days, loaded up on snack food and made our road trip playlist. My mom loved 80’s pop, and I had a soft spot for all things indie rock, so we’d switch off, each of us singing along to our songs. Then, the moment we pulled up to the little beach house we always rented, we threw our stuff in the living room, rubbed on sunscreen, grabbed our blankets and books and headed to the beach.

            That’s where we were when I saw him.

            The waves were high that day, bringing the surfers out in droves. Mom and I had been dividing our attention between our books and the waves, commenting on style and wipeouts, even blatantly ogling some of them.

            “Mom, they’re like thirty years younger than you,” I chastised, swatting her book with mine.

            “I’m just looking,” she laughed, bumping her feet against my legs. “Speaking of looking…”

            She tilted her head towards a trio of boys coming out of the waves. All I saw was florescent red hair before a husky puppy ran up to our blanket, grabbing my book between his teeth before taking off again.

            “HEY!” I yelled, springing up and chasing after him, dodging around sunbathers and little kids building sand castles. I swore the dog looked back at me and grinned before doubling his speed and running right into the ocean. “You….” I hissed, stopping at the water’s edge.

            I hadn’t bothered to put on my suit, which meant I got to watch as Satan’s spawn in dog form frolic in the sea with my book, and I sighed, resting my hands on my hips.

            “Gumiho!” I heard someone call, and devil dog started to paddle to shore, loping over a boy with red hair—the same boy my mom had pointed out to me.

            “Of course,” I groan, sighing before making my way over the trio.

             They looked like typical board rats; wetsuits folded down to reveal washboard abs and tanned skin, their hair slicked back from their faces as they laughed and pushed each other. The one with fluorescent red hair had a hemp necklace around his neck, which he played with as he waited for his dog to trot over to him.

            I recognized the stocky blonde from where I didn’t know, but Red and his dark haired friend I hadn’t seen before. With a sigh, I began to head over to them, arriving just in time to hear Red say, “Drop it,” and devil dog did as he was told, thumping his tail against the sand as he did so.

            “I’m sorry about that,” he said, picking up my destroyed book and handing it to me with a sheepish smile. “Gumiho thinks he’s funny.”

            “Takes after his owner,” the dark haired boy quipped.

            The blonde snorted, poorly turning his laugh into a cough when Red glared at him over his shoulder. The dark-haired boy didn’t bother to hide his smirk, and the side of my mouth quirked up. I could tell they had been friends for a while; it was in the way they communicated with raised eyebrows and smirks, secrets bouncing from boy to boy in silence.

            “Well, I hate to tell Gumiho this, but I don’t think he’s funny,” I said, trying in vain to shake some of the water free from the pages, not missing the way Blondie elbowed Red.

            “Don’t worry, I tell him that often. I’m…um… BamBam,” Red said, the tips of his ears flushing.

            “BamBam?”

            “It’s… a long story,” he laughed, slicking back his hair.

            “Aren’t they always?” I said dryly.

            “Sometimes those are the best stories,” Blondie said. “I’m Hoseok by the way,” he added, shooting me a smile.

            “And I’m Yugyeom,” the brunette added, waving his hand.

            “Nice to meet you,” I said, starting to turn to leave.

            “This is where you tell me your name,” BamBam said, flashing me a smile.

            “Thanks for trying to save my book,” I said, smiling back at him before turning and heading back to my mom.

                                                                        *

            I brought the book up to my nose; the smell of salt water and sunscreen still clinging to it. I hadn’t told him my name because I wanted to avoid something messy. I was only going to be there for a week and a half—not enough to start anything.

            But BamBam had other ideas.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally thought I had already posted this chapter!! *Covers eyes in shame. * So sorry about the long delay, life got more than a little crazy!  
> But I'm going to post the last two chapters today, to make up for it!  
> Happy reading!

            Putting down the book, I picked up the coffee sleeve next, turning it over in my hand as a smile spread across my face.

            It had turned out the reason I’d recognized Hoseok was because he worked at the coffee shop I went to every morning. How I hadn’t made the connection baffled me—how many people had biceps like that?

            “Why hello mysterious book girl,” he had greeted me the day after we met at the beach. “You’re usual?”

            I nodded, too tired from the scrabble tournament mom and I had the night before to form words, and handed him a five.

            “You know, you make it really hard for me to be a good wingman,” he said, grinning as he tapped the screen of the till. “You could at least pay with a card.”

            “Ah, but where’s the challenge in that?” I said, waving my hand as he started to count out coins. “Keep the change wingman.”

            “Well thank you book girl,” he said, throwing the change into the tip jar before turning to make my drink.

            I rested against the bar to wait for my coffee, pulling out my phone and thumbing through my social media, not missing that Hoseok typed something on his phone before pouring milk into a steamer mug. My phone buzzed, calling my attention to the screen, and I sighed when I saw it was a reminder email from the university. _Yes, I’m very aware I need to finish my paperwork,_ I grumbled to myself, aiming a glare at the bag hanging from my shoulder.

            “One cup O’ Death for your drinking pleasure,” Hoseok said, handing me my drink.

            I rolled my eyes. “It’s not that bad.”

            “Three shots of espresso in a twelve ounce cup, topped off with cold brew and a splash of steamed milk? I call that liquid death,” Hoseok said, crossing his arms.

            “I call it perfect,” I said, taking a hearty sip, laughing at the appalled expression on his face.

            I walked over to my usual table and pulled out my papers, beginning the tedious process of filling them out when someone settled into the chair across from mine. I looked up over my coffee cup, and spluttered. “You sold me out!” I cried, turning to stare accusingly at Hoseok.

            He gave me an unapologetic look, raising his hands in a ‘what could I do’ gesture, and I sighed theatrically before turning to face BamBam, who shot me a charming smile. “We meet again.”

            “It appears so,” I chuckle, ruffling a stack of papers, attempting to grab one back from him, as he pulled it closer to him. “That’s not yours!”

            “Well how else am I supposed to find out your name?” he said with an innocent smile that I wasn’t buying for one second.

            “By not stealing my personal information?” I said, grabbing my form back from him.

            He let me take it, leaning back against his chair. “That’s a good school. But…You’re not going to live on campus? Where’s the fun in that?”

            I shrugged. “My mom’s a professor there, so we live close to the university anyways.”

            “Still, the dorms are more fun.”

            “Oh sure,” I scoffed. “People yelling and screaming at all hours of the night, frat boys and sorority girls, why would I want to miss out on that?”

            “Well you won’t need to study sarcasm,” BamBam said with a smirk. “What are you majoring in though?”

            “I’m not sure yet,” I said, feeling my cheeks burn as I admitted, “I was thinking of library science.”

            “So you want to be a librarian?”

            “Maybe. And you can keep the sexy librarian comments to yourself thank you.”

            “Okay Barbara Gordon,” he said, his brown eyes twinkling.

            “Did the surfer bum just make a comic book reference?”

            “I take offense to the term surfer bum,” he said, holding a hand up to his chest.

            I rolled my eyes, leaning against the table to tap the sharks tooth hanging from his neck. “Then you shouldn’t wear cheesy hemp necklaces.”

            BamBam captured my hand with his, leaning closer to me, so close I could smell the mint on his breath as he asked, “Are you judging a book by its cover Miss Gordon?”

            “That’s not even my name,” I whispered, my mouth going dry at his close proximity.

            “It is now,” he said, annoyance crossing his face when his phone chimed, and he let go of my hand to fish it out of the pocket of his skinny jeans, cursing under his breath and standing up.

            “Late again Bam?” Hoseok chuckled, and BamBam raised his middle finger to him, grabbing my coffee cup and slipping off the jacket.

            “Give me your sharpie,” he barked to his friend, and with a roll of his eyes, Hoseok tossed his pen to him. BamBam pulled the cap off with his teeth, scrawling something onto the sleeve and handing it to me with a wink. “In case you get bored filling out paperwork,” he mumbled around the cap.

            I stared at the line of numbers in disbelief as BamBam recapped the pen, tossed it to Hoseok and then ran out of the coffee shop. Bewildered, I looked at Hoseok, who just smirked at me. “I think I just redeemed my wingman title,” he said, brushing imaginary dirt off of his shoulder.

            I rolled my eyes at him and tried to refocus my attention onto my paperwork, but the thick black numbers kept distracting me. I picked up the sleeve again and examined it carefully. I could practically hear my friend Minhyuk demanded why I hadn’t already texted this boy, Hyungwon wholeheartedly agreeing.

            I put the sleeve down, pulling my papers toward me again. _I’m only here for a few more days. It’d be dumb to get involved,_ I thought, tapping my pen against the table as I scanned the next form. But my eyes kept drifting towards it, Minhyuk’s voice whispering, _so what? Take a chance for once!_

            And maybe it was the fact that I was going to start a new chapter in my life, or maybe just too much sun and not enough sleep, but I found myself reaching for my phone, typing in the ten digit number and tapping out a message.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY, last chapter! I didn't adhere to any specific era when it came to hair colors, just what my personal preference was on each person.  
> Other than that, no special notes :-).  
> I'd love to hear what you guys think!

           The last thing in the bag was the necklace. With a fond smile, I looped it around my neck, pushing the bead through the worn hole before grabbing my phone and burrowing into my closet. Opening Instagram, I scrolled through the photos from that night; I smiled at the photos of me, BamBam, Hoseok and Yugyeom, eyes scrunched shut and smiles wide, us obviously more than a little drunk. I shook my head at the videos of the boys dancing, some moves almost too racy for public viewing, and then, my hand creeped up to cradle the sharks tooth when I found the last picture. It was me and Bam, the moonlight highlighting the planes of our faces, and I lost myself in memory again.

            After I had texted him, he had promptly responded with an invite to a party at his friend’s house. I had waffled back and forth, but my mom pushed me—almost literally, to go.

            “A summer fling is detriment to a hoo-rah shift,” she had said before shooing me out the door, and I’d rolled my eyes, but had tucked my phone into my back pocket and headed towards the address BamBam had sent me.

            It was a ramshackle beach house, music spilling out from the open door, and various cars and trucks parked in front, surfboards attached to most of them. Bam had been leaning against a truck, talking to a stocky, white-blonde boy, who’s intense eyes were offset by his wide smile, but Bam left him with a high-five and promise to find him inside when I got closer.

            “You came!” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind him. “Come meet the gang!”

            “This is Junior and JB,” he said, pointing first to a stunningly handsome man, his dark jeans and button up an odd contrast to his partners more laid back cargo shorts, tank top and bare feet.

            “It’s Jinyoung actually,” the former said with a snarky tone and curled lip before offering me a hand with a warm smile. “Welcome.”

            “Keg’s out back,” JB said with a smile, light catching the ring through his lip as he motioned through the house to the sliding glass door.

            “Thanks,” I said with a laugh as BamBam pulled me away again.

            He flung out names as we passed so fast that I wasn’t sure I’d remember them later. A blond with a shoulder to waist ratio that would make Captain America jealous and the slender auburn-haired guy with a cross tattoo on one of his calves cuddled together on the couch were Jackson and Mark. Two dark-haired boys were playing beer pong, the smaller one with a undercut trading high-fives with a  boy with fluffy light brown hair as he cheered on the other one drinking with a bashful smile were introduced with an hasty, “Kihyun, Changkyun, and Hyunwoo,” as Bam grabbed one of the cups off of the table, ignoring the protests from the trio.

            I felt a wave of relief at the sight of Hoseok and Yugyeom at the keg, grateful to see familiar faces, and shyly thanked the boy who handed me a cup.

            “I’m Youngjae,” he said with a sunny smile.

            “It’s nice to meet you,” I said, taking a small sip of beer as I surveyed the party. Various other people I’d seen around the town were scattered around the backyard, roasting marshmallows, laughing as they talked, or dancing to the music.

            Jinyoung and JB had come outside, Jinyoung playing the hostess role to perfection, making sure there were plenty of s’more ingredients, JB watching him with a fond smile before being dragged onto the makeshift dance floor by Mark and Jackson, the three of them throwing out b-boy moves that made my eyes widen.

            “Show offs,” BamBam scoffed, and I pushed his arm.          

            “Like you could do better.”

            “Challenge accepted Miss Gordon,” BamBam said with an affronted expression, chugging the rest of his beer before joining the fray.

            As more beer was consumed, the dance contest dissolved, as did my composure, until I was crying from laughing so hard at the moves the boys were attempting. “You’re going to break something,” Jinyoung scolded, but that only encouraged the boys, JB going over to drag him onto the floor.  

            Bam attempted to do the same to me, but I waved him off. “I’m not good enough for this crowd,” I said, and he rolled his eyes.

            “Then you need more beer,” he said, pulling me towards the keg.

            A few beers later, I found myself in the back of Jooheon’s truck, flying down roads I’d never been down, going way too fast, the boys taking turns standing up to fling their arms out wide, pretending to fly. I snapped a blurry picture of BamBam, the tails of his button up shirt flying behind him as he whooped, then he cursed as Jooheon swerved a little.

            He sat down beside me with a thump, taking my phone out of my hand. “Your turn Gordon.”

            “Oh no, I’m not that drunk,” I giggled, pushing his face away, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me up.

            “Just fly already damnit,” he whispered as he rested his hands on my hips.

            With a roll of my eyes, I let out a sarcastic war whoop as I flung out my arms just as Jooheon accelerated, stealing the breath from my lungs. The logical side of my brain that the alcohol hadn’t numbed knew I wasn’t really flying, but when I closed my eyes, all I could feel was the air whipping my hair around my face, threading through my fingers and tugging at the hem of my shirt and Bam behind me, warm, strong, and secure. I’d never felt so free.

            I didn’t open my eyes until Jooheon came to a stop, and then they sprung open, taking in the moonlight beach. With wild screeches and whoops, we jumped out of the back of the truck, running through the empty beach like we were kids again. At some point, our wild running turned into a game of tag, and I screamed as I ran away from BamBam, who had zeroed in on me the moment Hoseok had tagged him, arms pumping as my legs and sides ached from running in the sand.

            He easily caught up with me, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me up, spinning me around as he crowed, “You’re it!”

            “Put me down!” I howled.

            “Okay,” he replied, mischief in his tone as he moved us closer to the water.

            “Not there,” I screeched, flailing my limbs, knocking him off balance.

            We landed in a heap on the sand, laughing hysterically until we couldn’t laugh anymore, chests heaving to bring cool air into our lungs, the water brushing our toes. Then, he rolled over, brushing strands of hair out of my face. His necklace was dangling above me, and I reached out to grab it, feeling the rough edges of the faux sharks tooth cut into my fingertips before bringing my eyes to meet him.

            “I’m glad you came,” he whispered, as he bent down, his lips against mine swallowing my “me too.”  

            We were inseparable after that night, trying to wring every last bit of summer fling out of the week. I’d meet him after his lifeguarding shift and spend the day walking hand in hand, exploring the town, walking the beach or surfing. He’d tried to teach me, but my lack of balance meant I was better suited to watching him, Gumiho on one side, my book carefully hidden on the other side from his mischievous streak.

            Bam would even join my mom and I for games, her disappearing into her bedroom earlier than usual with a sly wink. He’d pretend to ignore it, but his smirk would sell him out and I’d push him, but then he’d pull me close and we’d watch a movie, trading slow kisses.

            It was perfect, which made that last night harder to accept.

            We’d spent the whole day together; starting at the coffee shop, Hosoek making my Cup O’Death (which was now a special) one last time, before stopping by the library to fax in my paperwork. I had changed my mind, choosing to live on campus, and I had blamed Bam for it, telling him if I had a crappy roommate it was all his fault. He had just laughed before slinging an arm across my shoulder, dragging me to the café Mark and Jackson worked at for lunch.

            We ended, of course, on the beach, moonlight reflecting off the water as I sat within his arms, making promises we both knew we wouldn’t keep as we intertwined our fingers.

            We had known this…us… had a deadline, but that didn’t make good bye easier.

            After he had walked me home, he had unhooked his necklace, dropping it into my palm with a soft smile.            

            “What, you think I’m going to wear this? Beach bum isn’t my style,” I’d joked, but I curled my fingers around the necklace, unwilling to give it back.

            “No, only I can pull that off,” he shot back before biting his lip and looking down at his feet, scuffing the toe of his flip-flop against the wood of the porch. “It’s just something to remember me by.”

            “I’ll never forget you BamBam,” I whispered, stepping closer and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

           

            And now, as I ran my fingers over the bumps and twists of saltwater softened twine, I smiled, knowing I hadn’t lied that night. I’d never forget the tall slim boy with fire engine red hair and honey colored skin that had shown me how to be fearless and unafraid. Who had taught me how to live.     


End file.
